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Random captions whenever I get a wild hair to make them. No schedule or consistent pattern.

"I get it, you think I'm a sleazeball who only wants to get into your pants. You didn't have to be such an asshole about it."

"No, wait, you got it all wrong!" Amber called after him. "It doesn't say I won't fuck for food. It says I won't fuck for food!"

No use. Despite how hard she tried to hit the point home, he stormed out of the restaurant, leaving Amber in her booth with everyone staring directly at her. Desperate not to draw any further attention, she hastily took a sip from her mug... even as she brushed her long red hair aside to better show off her shirt.

This was her fifth date since Eileen happened. Each and every one ended the same. They arrived early. She arrived late. They ordered. She took off her jacket. The moment their eyes landed on her chest, their outrage bubbled to the surface and they left her out in the cold like she was the biggest bitch in the world. If only her dates took a few seconds to ask, they might figure out the real deal.

She wasn't fucking. Anyone. Anything. Not one of her sex toys. Not her hand. Not the seat under her. Nothing. For six whole months, she let her quim simmer between her legs with a red hot lust she wasn't allowed to sate.

It ached. Her thighs pressed together under the table. Unconsciously, she rubbed them to get a little pleasure and earned a sudden shock to her tits.

"FUCK!" she shouted, earning more dirty looks. She thought she could trick the sensors just this once. Her dreaded earpiece rang, announcing her punishment.

"No lunch."

"Please!" Amber begged. "It was an accident, I swear."

"Oh, like Jake was an accident, right?" Eileen said through the earpiece.

She still remembered the night this began. Eileen confronted her outside her own apartment with page after page of evidence. Sexts, naughty pictures, hook-up plans, the works. Everything confirmed her trampy attempts to seduce Eileen's ex, and with the press of a button, Eileen could send that E-mail package to everyone from Amber's parents to her boss. Unless Amber consented to a little experiment.

She signed the contract. Scoffed at its terms. Sat obediently while Eileen hooked up a battery, wires, electrodes, sensors, an earpiece, a wireless card, and most importantly of all, shoved the hated shirt over her head and through her arms to settle over her pert breasts. Baggy enough to hide her apparel, but tight enough to show her curves and melons for whoever wanted a gander.

That brought Amber to today. Biting her lower lip, she pressed her hands against her crotch as her pussy winced for her touch. Its hunger overruled her grumbling belly which hadn't had a bite in almost 24 hours. Lately, her failures to contain her lust kept her on a steady diet of coffee mixed with Viagra and... whatever else Eileen added to it. She tried not to think of why it had such a gooey texture.

As she set the mug down, a waitress approached her table. "Miss, I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

Time for the good old lines Eileen waited for. "Listen, I'm horny and haven't had dick in months. I'm edgy cause I can't edge."

"I don't care what your issue is. Get out before I call the police."

Rising from her seat, Amber headed for the door with a wet spot on her tight white shorts, eliciting more murmurs.


(Serious addition to this post, the shirt is cool and you can find it for sale on the creator's website. I simply couldn't resist playing with how the words could be taken very differently from what was intended.)

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